


Parselkink

by pipisafoat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Parseltongue, Parseltongue Kink, Snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has a secret. Well, he has several secrets, but somebody knows one of them. The problem is, he doesn't know which secret has come out....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parselkink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keppiehed](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=keppiehed).



> Written probably two years ago. I kept thinking I'd "finish it", but I have decided that it is as finished as it will ever be. (If that prompts anybody to run off and write more parselkink, I am more than okay with that!)

_I know._

Draco froze with his hand poised to turn the page. The note was small enough not to be noticed when the poor excuse for a textbook was shut, but it was thick enough to make the pages fall open to it immediately. It looked like the corner of a piece of parchment, torn hastily when the opportunity to get to his books presented itself. That settled that - he was going to carry his own book bag for the rest of his school career. Too many things had slipped in and out of it when Crabbe or Goyle were carrying it.

He flipped a handful of pages until he found the correct chapter, settling in with an appropriately focused look on his face to pretend to read. Something about the note was familiar, handwriting he'd seen before. It seemed pretty masculine to him, or at least more masculine than that of any girl he knew. Definitely not Crabbe or Goyle; he'd have been hard pressed to make out the two words had either of them been the writer. Nott wrote W with curves instead of points. Zabini thought himself above printing letters. It could be an older Slytherin, but he didn't know their writing that well, and this just felt like he should know who wrote it. And whoever it was, he needed to work it out quickly, because they _knew_....

Well, bugger all. They could know anything from his favorite color to his father's new houseguest, but the note was rather less than forthcoming on the subject of what, exactly, his new pen pal knew. That Draco wasn't actually bothering to read the textbook in class? He turned a page for good measure and shifted in his chair, tilting his book to a better angle for reading and carefully looking above it to see if anybody was watching him for a reaction. He was determined to disappoint, if they were.

He frowned down at his textbook, where a list covered half the page. Umbridge always gave him points if he appeared to be taking notes on the chapter, and lists were as good a place to start as any. He stuck a finger in the book to hold his place as he rummaged in his bag for an old piece of parchment - no sense in wasting a new one on this garbage. Maybe if they were reading a chapter on Dark curses instead of this drivel about the best cleaning charms for poisonous molds. He had house elves to deal with poisonous molds, really.

A Transfiguration essay from the month before finally made its way onto his desk, and he flipped it to the blank side and filled his quill. _Defensive Magical Theory, Chapter 7_. He could see bits of his old essay from this side of the parchment--

He flipped back in the book hastily, pretending to check something in Chapter 5 as he retrieved the note. He returned to the assigned page and wrote down the first item in the list - _Scourgify insufficient for airborne poisons._ He read the note one more time. _I know._ Nothing else. He flipped the note over to the other side to find a broken message.

_Excellent wo_  
interclass connect  
Miss Granger's help  
 **E**

Only two students were dumb enough to need a Mudblood's help.

* * *

"Hey, Malfoy! Did you lose your bodyguards, or are they off eating again?"

Draco sighed and turned around, the hand in his pocket wrapped firmly around his wand. "Weasel."

"Ron, lay off," Potter interrupted as Weasley opened his mouth again. "Go ahead; I'll meet you in the library."

"Harry--"

"It's fine, Mione. We're just going to talk. Go on."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the trio blocking his path. " _We_ are going to talk?"

Potter smirked at him. "Well, Malfoy, I'm going to talk to you, and if I've learned anything about you in the past five years, it's that you'll always talk back."

"Nobody would blame you if it turned into hexing, mate."

Potter glared at his friends. "I'm not going to hex him, Ron! And it'd be pretty stupid of him to hex me when we're alone out here. No backup, and with both of you waiting for me in the library...."

"Okay, Harry. If you're sure." The Mudblood pulled Weasley's arm and started walking away, shooting worried glances back at Potter over her shoulder.

Draco sighed again. "Well, get on with it, Potter."

"I see you got my note yesterday."

Hmm. "I did. I nearly fainted from surprise at the thought of you knowing something."

Potter smirked, or maybe it was more of a grin. An evil, sadistic grin. Draco glanced around uneasily, making sure he could be seen by other students. "Oh, it's not just anything I know."

"Do you happen to know why you're interrupting what was promising to be a very relaxing walk around the lake?"

The other boy grinned-or-smirked even wider. "Don't let me interrupt your exercise. A bit of sun would do you good. I'll even walk with you, since Crabbe and Goyle aren't here. It wouldn't do for a Malfoy to be seen without some sort of bodyguard."

"The day _you_ become any sort of bodyguard for _me_ \--" Draco starts to splutter, but he cuts off as soon as he sees Potter's self-satisfied face. "You're far more suited to different work. There's an opening at the manor for another house elf, actually, if you think you could handle being on your knees all day."

Potter's face is definitely a smirk this time. "No, Malfoy, you're more of the knees type. C'mon, let's walk." He takes off without looking back, and Draco berates himself silently as his feet automatically fall in step.

"I don't take orders from you," he protests, and Potter looks him up and down in a way that feels very unsettling and more than a little bit threatening.

"And yet, here you are."

"I could use the entertainment."

"Mm. I know exactly what you could use." Potter scanned the grass beside the path for a moment before hissing loudly.

A huge snake slithered out of the bushes. No, not huge; Nagini was huge. This was just a regular big snake. "Fuck! Potter--"

"Not without a bit of foreplay." Potter hissed some more, and Draco stood rooted to the spot. He'd say later that he was calculating the probability of outrunning the snake using advanced Arithmancy. "Would you like a translation of what I'm telling our friend, here?"

"Not overly."

The annoyance smiled again, a slow spreading across his face that really, really didn't reassure Draco of the wisdom of not having run yet. "That's right. It's the language that you like, not what's being said."

Oh.

So that's what he knew.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm not convinced." Potter licked his lips and hissed again. The snake turned its gaze towards Draco almost appraisingly before replying. "Neither is she."

"She?" Draco cursed himself in his head at the inane reply.

"You don't have a problem with her being female, do you? I mean, she'll hardly have anything to with the ... direct action."

Draco blinked, then blinked again. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, truthfully this time.

"And we're still not convinced," Potter replied. "Doesn't matter. You'll catch on soon enough. Here, come off the path. Anyone could see you across the lake."

"What -- That's the point!"

Potter took his turn blinking slowly. "Hmm. Well, not this time. I'm not into exhibitionism without some sort of advance warning."

"Exhib-- Potter, what the fuck are you doing?" Draco tried to jerk his wrists out of Potter's grasp, but the other boy just squeezed harder and tugged him into a small clearing behind a row of tall bushes.

"Whatever kind of fuck I want to do," Potter said lowly, somehow hissing at the same time. It took Draco a minute to realize that this time, the hissing was coming from the snake. Potter hardly glanced at it, following them to the middle of the clearing, as he answered in a string of staccato hisses.

"This would be an excellent time for that translation."

Potter released his wrists suddenly, throwing him off-balance as he fought against an abruptly absent restraint. "She's just telling me how pretty you are when you're aroused."

"When I'm ... Potter. I am not aroused. I am ... irritated."

The other boy shrugged. "Well, you're hot when you're irritated, too. No need to choose just one state of looking good. Personally, I'm all for you being both irritated and turned on."

"And I'm not pretty!"

"Please." Potter scoffed and reached for Draco again. "This would be much easier if you were horizontal. And naked."

"I am not getting naked in the middle of a field."

A look of entirely too much glee crossed Potter's face. "Oh, good. I do hate to be the only one dressed." He pushed at Draco's shoulder, urging him down onto the grass. "You might want to at least open your robes, though. Too many layers really muffles the feeling. But of course you'd know that already, if you're into this."

"I am not _into_ anything you're implying!" Draco glared up at the annoying boy. "Malfoys are paragons of virtue."

"So when I walked in on you and Pansy, that leather crop was just--"

"When you _what!_ "

Potter smirked again. "I really thought you knew I was there. Doesn't matter, though. It gave me some good ideas." He hissed, and the snake slid quickly towards them.

"Potter...."

The Parselmouth hissed more, and the snake hissed back, and then Draco joined in on the hissing, because there was a snake wrapping around his wrist, and it _itched_.

"She says to tell you sorry, but she's shedding her skin. It might be a little rough."

"Well, tell _her_ that--"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Draco jerked bodily as another snake entered the clearing. "Are you holding some kind of convention I need to be aware of?" he asked, voice rising as the new snake wrapped around his other wrist.

Potter spoke to the snakes, and they both replied to him. Hissing in surround sound. Draco groaned. In defeat. Or was it better for him to admit to the arousal? Malfoys were not defeated so easily.

"Lay back and put your arms over your head. They can wrap around that tree and hold you down pretty tight."

Draco groaned again and complied. "And then you, what, get me off while you whisper sweet nothings in Parseltongue in my ear?"

"I was thinking more of filthy, filthy things in Parseltongue, and less whispering than just talking, but you've got the basic plan."

He frowned in the general direction of the snakes. "How strong are your friends?"

Potter's grin spread slowly over his face, and this time, the evil and sadistic qualities looked really, really hot to Draco. "Strong enough." He knelt between Draco's legs and pushed them apart.

Draco spread them eagerly. "Good. Because I don't go down easily."

Potter licked his lips and unzipped Draco's pants. "Lucky for you, I do."


End file.
